


Three Stories, Two Princes and a Happily Ever After

by Ninjaninaiii



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Disney References, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Child Abuse, dads being dads, kids wanting their papas to hook up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjaninaiii/pseuds/Ninjaninaiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Prince called Papa...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Stories, Two Princes and a Happily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fluff written in a couple hours to stave off post-christmas blues ay

Valjean fell into the train seat, already shattered. It was eight AM, they were on the train, and he was exhausted. The two children bounded on after him, Enjolras taking his pick of seats in the empty carriage, already on his knees on one of the seats, staring out of the window, Cosette holding onto the pole and dancing around it. It was the first stop on the line so they had a while to wait, and then a forty-five minute journey, but hopefully it would be less stressful than attempting to wake up, clean, feed and dress the two under-10s.

“Come, Cosette, sit down before the train starts to move.” Cosette pretended not to notice him, still circling the pole, her pink crown sparkling in the light, so Valjean changed tactics. “Enjolras, would you like to sit next to Papa?” 

Enjolras turned from the window opposite and nodded, obediently coming to sit on the seat Valjean was patting. Once he was seated, Valjean leant down to the boy and whispered a nonsense joke in his ear, enough to get the six year old to start giggling. When Valjean looked back up at Cosette, she had stopped twirling and was watching them with a frown.

She sat down in the seat Enjolras had just vacated, looking sour as Enjolras swung his legs, still smiling. “Cosette, do you want to hear the joke Papa told me?”

“No.” Cosette stuck out her tongue. 

Enjolras looked up at his Papa, hurt in his eyes. 

“I’m sure Cosette has plenty of her own jokes,” Valjean consoled, patting E’s curls. 

“I’m better than Papa at jokes,” she told her brother, and Valjean realised he’d created a competition to win the affections of the small boy, who they’d only recently adopted into their small family. 

“She’s right, you know, Cosette is far better than I am.” Valjean smiled at his daughter, who considered it for a second, processed, decided to forgive, and beamed. Valjean was constantly amazed at a child’s ability to forgive and forget. She jumped from her seat and pulled Enjolras to her side, so that they could sit and watch the station from the window.

Valjean relaxed, happy that the two had bonded well. He had been unsure whether Cosette would retreat back into herself if she were exposed to a new change again so suddenly, having only coaxed her out of her cruelty-given shell so recently. Enjolras had been of a completely different family too, so far above Cosette’s humbler beginnings, and he’d wondered if either would harbor jealousies or ill feelings because of it. 

Whether because they were too young to understand such things, or whether the kids were just good people, the two had bonded nicely, already calling one another by their sibling endearments and teasing like real kids should. 

Valjean yawned, not having slept for a couple of days, now. Enjolras had only just recovered from a cold, but in one so young, Valjean had worried, needing to keep vigil in case anything had happened. 

He closed his eyes for a second, feeling them heavy, painful… 

He woke with a start, panic flaring. How long had he slept? Were the kids okay? God, what had he done, doing something as irresponsible as sleeping- Cosette and Enjolras were where they were before, laughing at something out of the window and he resettled, waiting for the adrenaline the stop pumping-

“You only slept for two and a half minutes.”

Valjean jumped out of his skin, skating across the bench-like seats away from the voice, a voice whose proximity indicated he’d probably been sitting right next to Valjean. Worries flaring, Valjean looked back at Cosette and Enjolras, who, he now saw, had been joined by another small child.

Valjean looked back at the man, still cautious. The man half-smiled, following his gaze. “Combeferre.” The new boy turned at his name, tilting his head. The kid didn’t look particularly like his adult counterpart, but neither did Valjean to his own, so Valjean was having a hard time justifying his wariness.

Valjean waved at the kid, who smiled and waved back, though his interests were quickly torn back by Cosette pointing at something in the quickly-moving backdrop.

“Sorry if my boy woke you,” the man apologised, watching Valjean, now, as he came to sit back beside him.

“I’m glad he did. I can’t believe I-” Valjean shook his head, incredibly disappointed, angry, if anything had happened to them... 

“Busy day?”

“Enjolras has been ill… but that’s no excuse.”

“No.” Valjean was in equal parts hurt and comforted by the other man’s frank dismissal of Valjean’s excuse. “But you’ll never do it again.”

Valjean nodded, slowly, watching the three play. He sighed. “I guess I should thank you, Sir, if anything had happened and I hadn’t woken in time…”

“Javert.” Javert held out his hand to be shaken, which Valjean did.

“Jean. Thanks for watching them while I was out.”

Javert nodded. “Where you heading?”

“Museum, they’ve been going on about it since they heard there was an exhibition about planets.”

“Natural History,” Javert said, with an acknowledging nod. “The  _ Otherworlds _ exhibit.”

“You too?” Valjean asked, and Javert nodded.

“Combeferre’s probably going to send the first manned mission to Mars.”

“Enjolras’ll be on it, and Cosette will own NASA.” The two been smiled, watching as the three kids waved out of the window at a passing train, waving harder when someone responded. They fell into fits of giggles at one man, who’d pulled a face at them. 

“Papa!” Cosette called, “The man pulled a funny face!”

“Really?” Valjean asked, “Can you show me what it looked like? Which one of you can do it the best?” he challenged, laughing as the three started to pull their worst faces, tongues out, fingers pulling at eyelids and pushing up noses. “Oh wow, those were all amazing!” 

Once the kids had gone back to waving, Valjean looked back to Javert, who was still watching him, but with a less critical eye. “You’re good with them. They yours?”

Valjean had never been asked so candidly before, usually having to deal with a lot of hedging, which he’d mostly gotten used to by now. “Er yeah. Adoption. You?”

“Foster. Temporary.”

“You seem to enjoy his company… if you don’t mind my asking why only temporary?”

“I’m too busy to take care of him. I know what it’s like to have non-existent parents,” Javert admitted. “I’d rather he had a good childhood than waste it with me.”

“...he seems to like you,” Valjean said, before realising that would probably be turning the knife. “What’s the connection?”

“Family. They were discussing him like a piece of furniture at an auction, saying who had to pay more and who was rich enough to afford owning him, so I said I’d take him in.”

“Very admirable of you,” Valjean said, impressed. “What’s your profession?” 

“Police.” Javert sat back a little, pulling out his badge. Not strictly necessary, but most people were impressed when they saw it, and he thought Valjean could use convincing that Javert was not a creep. Valjean visibly relaxed on seeing the badge. “And yourself?”

“I’m a gardener. Cosette was my friend’s daughter, I was her godfather when Fantine passed… Enjolras was the child of one of my customers… who also passed away… this sounds fishy, doesn’t it, I’ve never said it out loud before.”

“A track record of adopting recently orphaned children?” Javert joked. “Definitely not fishy.”

Valjean elbowed him, a habit he’d recently acquired from his quarrelling kids.

“I’m glad they’re getting along,” Javert said, seemingly out of nowhere. “Combeferre is… a quiet kid.” As if to prove him wrong, Combeferre let out a laugh like a burst of sunshine, loud and gleeful. “Usually anyway.” Javert laughed his own laugh, a slightly terrifying, but definitely well-meant one.

Valjean nodded. “A couple of years ago, you’d hardly have recognised Cosette. I was not her first carer. The others… mistreated her.”

Javert sighed, deep and angry. “I know the type. I’ve met too many in my career.” Javert was placated as he watched the three swapping seats, poking each other as they did so. “He’ll be happier when he’s with other children.”

“If you’d like, they seem to really enjoy one another’s company… you’re very welcome to join us around the museum?”

Javert was not used to being invited to things. He squinted at Valjean before turning to the kids. “Combeferre?” he asked, the boy instantly turning towards him. “Would you like Cosette and Enjolras and their Papa to join us around the museum?”

Combeferre’s eye widened and he nodded, tight-lipped. “If their Papa is okay with that?” he asked. Valjean could see the boy, who was no older than Cosette, was an exceedingly polite one, and mature for his age. 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, don’t you, children?” Valjean asked his own two, who looked like it was Christmas. They begun talking faster and louder than before, which was quite the achievement. 

Valjean and Javert fell into conversation again, about schools, about adoption, about the quality of children’s cartoons these days, only occasionally looking back at the kids to check they weren’t committing deeds too irreparable. 

“Feet off the seats, kids!” Valjean admonished a few minutes later, the three of them now standing on the train’s chairs.

“Don’t wanna!” they all said, as if they’d planned the answer.

Javert glanced at Valjean, a sly tint in his expression. Valjean made a ‘go ahead’ gesture and Javert nodded. “Well, I guess we’re going to have to cut the legs off, aren’t we, Jean.”

“Ooh, yes, bad children get their legs cut off as punishment.”

“And we were just talking about how we were getting hungry…”

“I think I have my saw in my satchel…” Valjean said, going to rummage through his bag.

“Oh, perfect, because I have the right sauce for naughty children…”

All three kids sat back in their seats, looking innocent and too quiet. Javert feigned a disappointed cluck. “Well if you’re going to be good… I suppose we’ll just have to have  _ normal  _ snacks.” He unzipped his backpack and drew out a ziplock bag of suspiciously homemade cookies. Javert repeated his ‘may I’ look from before, and received a second ‘be my guest’.

Once the kids had had their fill, Valjean was offered one too. He took a bite to be polite, usually not a fan of sweet things, but finding this to be amazing. “Did you make this?”

Javert nodded. “Combeferre is a surprisingly multi-talented child. We, and I quote him, ‘perfected the ultimate cookie recipe ever.’” 

“You’re not wrong, these are amazing.” Valjean was quick to finish the cookie, brushing crumbs off of his jumper. 

“Thank you.”

-

By the time they got to the museum, Valjean and Javert had exchanged numbers (in case they got separated,) had discovered they were practically neighbours, and that their children were at the same school, though Combeferre, the eldest, was the year above Cosette, and Enjolras three years below him.

“We could go to school together!” Cosette suggested, “Carpool! Our teacher says we get extra stickers if we carpool with other families.”

Javert’s eyes flickered from Cosette to Valjean, as if he’d thought of something quite important, but didn’t want to bring it up so soon into their acquaintance. 

“You mentioned you were busy- who usually takes Combeferre to school?”

“I take the bus,” Combeferre said, sticking his chest out like a proud little robin. 

“Wow! By yourself?” Cosette asked, impressed. “Papa said we weren’t allowed to take the bus, he drives us to school.”

“If you wanted…” Valjean started, “I mean, we’ve only just gotten to know each other, but…  if you wanted, I’d have to pass your house to get to the school anyway, and it’ll take some of the load off of you…”

“I couldn’t let you go out of your way…”

“No, no, I insist. Combeferre, what do you say, would you like to travel to school with E and Cosette?” Combeferre’s brilliant smile came out again, and that was the argument settled. 

-

The train ride home was packed with commuters, only one seat available. One seat, two adults and three kids.

“Jean, sit,” Javert insisted. “You’re taking up too much space.” Valjean did as he was told, then gathered the kids around him. “Who’s going to sit on my lap first? We’ll change at every stop, okay?”

Cosette was fastest to raise her hand, so he lifted her onto his knee. “Oof, when did you get so big?” Valjean asked, Cosette grinning as she played with his hands. She titled her head up so she could see Valjean, pushing back against his chest. “Oh, I can’t breathe if you do that!” he complained, miming his breath being knocked out. She giggled, leaning forwards, then sat back again, grinning up at him as he let out all of his breath in an over-exaggerated exhale.

“Can you really not breathe?” She asked, the glee on her face completely ruining any attempt at sympathy she was gunning for. 

“Nope, you’re too strong-” He blew again as she pressed the third time, but this time it was slightly more realistic as she dug her pointy elbows into his stomach. Not wanting to alarm her, or to reveal that she’d hurt him, Valjean got her off of him by tickling her, then swapping to the next child.

Enjolras was lifted onto his knee next, and he attempted to crush Valjean’s chest too, having seen the fun Cosette had had. Valjean gave him the same reactions  until it was time to swap. Combeferre didn’t attempt to crush Valjean, which he appreciated greatly. 

“Did you have a fun day?” Valjean asked him instead, watching Combeferre nod, and push up his glasses. After a few seconds of silence, Combeferre motioned that he wanted to sit the other way around so that he was facing Valjean. “Better?” Valjean asked, and Combeferre nodded. “What was your favourite part about today?”

Combeferre made a thinking face, then motioned for Valjean to come closer. “My favourite part was making friends, and for Mr. Javert to make a friend too.”

Valjean smiled at the earnestness in the admission, hugging Combeferre. “Your Javert is lucky to have you. You’re a pretty special boy.”

“I wanna stay with him,” Combeferre whispered. 

Valjean felt his heart break at the emotion in the tone. He’d seen Combeferre elated all day, to hear the boy’s tender sadness might have completely destroyed him. “Sometimes adults have to do hard things to protect the people they love. Just you remember he loves you, okay?”

Combeferre nodded and pulled away from the hug. “Thank you, Papa.”

Valjean smiled at the endearment, something charming about the way kids could adopt things that didn’t really belong so easily, and then swapped him for Cosette, whose first action was to punch him in the gut.

-

Three weeks since meeting Javert, Cosette and Enjolras considered Javert and Combeferre as family. At the museum, they had found Combeferre easy to include in their play, and they were both pleased that their Papa was smiling at Javert a lot.

They didn’t get to see their Uncle Javert very much after that, becuase, as Papa told them, he was a very important man with an important job, but it did mean Combeferre got to come around more often, until Javert came to pick him up just before bedtime. 

At first, when Javert came, they had had to be quick in saying goodbye to Combeferre becuase Javert would always say things like “we’ve got to rush,” or “I’ve got an early night tomorrow,” (Combeferre said they were both lies, but adults had to be listened to.)

By this point, however, they knew they’d have at least half an hour more with Combeferre as Papa invited Javert in, and they talked in their room. Javert sometimes joined them for dinner too, and always joked that he enjoyed eating children’s legs the most out of every food.

Cosette and Enjolras liked Javert because he pretended to be mean and scary, and he talked about bad things happening, but he made their Papa smile, and make a gooey expression they saw in princess films.

Tonight was one of those late nights when Javert hadn’t left until nearly ten P.M., and so they had gone straight to bed, where they were now telling each other stories in the dark.

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Prince called Papa.”

“No, Cosette, the Prince can’t be called Papa yet, Princes don’t have babies until they’re married. The Prince has to be called by his name.”

“Princes can have babies without being married,” Cosette told Enjolras, scrunching her nose. “So can Princesses.”

“But not in our story!” Enjolras complained, “The Prince  _ has  _ to have a name!”

“Fine! And the Prince was called… Ultime.”

“Ultime?” Enjolras complained. “That’s not Papa’s name!” 

“Well it’s in  _ my  _ story.”

“I don’t like your story.” Enjolras crossed his arms, not looking at Cosette.

“Well… I’ll go first, then you can have your story.”

“Okay!” Enjolras brightened up, glad he was allowed a turn, too.

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Prince called Papa Ultime. His mummy and daddy had died hundreds and hundreds of years ago, and his big sister had been cursed by an evil wizard, so Papa Ultime had to pretend to be a hedge trimmer.”

“That is Papa! Papa is a hedge trimmer gardener!”

“Shh, it’s  _ my  _ story.” Cosette frowned at E, who closed his mouth. “One day, Papa Ultime had to go and trim the hedges of someone who he didn’t know, but when he opened the door, it was a beautiful Prince called- uhm, Green.”

“You’re cheating!” Enjolras pointed a finger at himself. “I know the colours in French!”

“No, I’m not cheating, his name was Green! Prince Green because he wore lots of green things and his kingdom was all green.” 

“Uncle Javert doesn’t live in a green kingdom…”

“See, I’m not cheating, it’s not about Uncle Javert.”

Enjolras hummed, unhappy, but allowed Cosette to continue. “Prince Ultime went to the Green Kingdom pretending to be a lowly server person, but he didn’t complain because he was nice, and kind, and never complained.”

“It is Papa,” Enjolras complained, but under his breath so Cosette wouldn’t hit him.

“As soon as Prince Green saw him, he hated Prince Ultime.” Cosette held out a finger, preemptively shushing her brother. “The same evil wizard had cursed the Green Kingdom, so that they couldn’t trust nice people. They saw all of the nice people’s charit- charititatib…” Cosette frowned. “Charity… able… actions as mean ones. This meant that everyone in the Green Kingdom were as mean as could be, because they didn’t want to be thought of as mean.” Cosette licked her lips, getting into the story now.

“So whenever Prince Green would see Prince Ultime, hard at work, he would think bad things about him, which made him really, really sad. Prince Ultime just wanted everyone to smile and to be happy.”

“When do they fall in love?” Enjolras asked. “Do they live happily ever after?”

Cosette shushed him, and Enjolras sighed. “One day, Prince Green was sitting in his humungous garden, feeling sad because everyone was really mean, and nobody made him laugh, or cry, or feel anything but mean.”

“But then Papa-” Enjolras interrupted, but stopped when Cosette glared.

“But then Prince Ultime… uhm… he heard that Prince Green was sad because the magical trees told him so, and he decided that, even if Prince Green had been mean to him, he would try to cheer him up.”

“Because Papa is nice.”

“So he went into the special gardens that usually only the Kings and Queens of the Green Kingdom can enter because of a magical spell, and so everyone knew Ultime was special, and he went to Prince Green and told him to be sad and they kissed and then they got married and everyone lived happily ever after, the end.”

Enjolras clapped, politely, as Cosette bowed. “What happened to the curse?” he asked, after a reasonable amount of clapping. “And the mean people?”

“Oh, the kiss was true love’s kiss, so all of the curses were cured and Prince Ultime became King of the Green Kingdom with King Green so his sister didn’t die.”

“Oh. Okay.” Enjolras smiled, and clapped again. “Is it my turn?”

“Uhm, okay. Do you know how to start?”

Enjolras nodded, eagerly. “Once upon a time!”

“Okay, you can go now.”

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Princess called Javert. He was the most beautifulest Princess in the entire world, because he had the longest, flowy-est hair, and was really strong and cool, which made him the best Princess ever, except Tiana, because Tiana is the best.” Enjolras considered his story for a second, then continued. “One day, Princess Javert was reading a book and also doing archery, and he saw a man who was Papa, but he wasn’t called Papa yet because he didn’t have kids, and also Javert didn’t have kids yet either, so they were still Princesses and Princes instead of Kings.”

“Princesses don’t become Kings.”

“Some Princesses become Kings,” Enjolras rejected, using his best authoritorial tone. 

“Oh. Okay.”

Enjolras nodded. “So Princess Javert met Prince Jean, who was new to the country, but not a bad man like John Smith he was a good visitor who had come to pay his respectfulness. And then Princess Javert saw Prince Jean and he thought that Papa was beautiful but he didn’t want a Prince because he was okay alone but then Prince Jean was really nice and made him laugh and was the most beautiful Prince so they fell in love and adopted three babies called Princess Cosette, Prince Combeferre, and Prince Enj.” 

“You forgot that they get married and have an amazing wedding.”

“Oh, right, yeah, they get married and have an amazing wedding and they live happily ever after.” Enjolras and Cosette beamed at one another, glad they’d concocted such an amazing story.

“Who’s getting married?” asked a voice from the door, the two kids looking up at their Papa, who was smiling at them. 

“You and Princess Javert!” the two said in alarming synchronicity.

“Me- and… Princess- guys, you…”

“We  _ know  _ that Uncle Javert is a boy, but because he has the most beautiful hair, he gets to be a Princess.”

“What, I can’t be a Princess, too?” Valjean asked, coming to sit on the edge of Cosette’s bed. He feigned offence, one hand flicking his hair. 

“Princesses can’t have grey hair, silly!” Cosette said, sitting up in her bed so that she could play with his locks. 

“Javert has grey hairs too, if you look close enough,” Valjean said, not-at-all defensive.

“How close?” Cosette asked, “Thiiiiiiis close?” she started far away, moving closer at each of her attempts at guessing. 

“Closer, closer, closer,” Valjean answered each time, smiling until Cosette pressed her small face into his hair. “Hot potato!” Cosette giggled, rubbing her nose against his head. 

“Were you and Uncle playing hot potato too?” Enjolras asked, and Valjean let out a shocked laugh. He would have to be more careful as these two grew up; they were definitely perceptive kids. 

“That’s right, we were playing a game. For adults,” he added, in case the two burst in the next time they ‘played a game’. 

“Can we play when we’re older?” Cosette asked, and damn it, Valjean should have known that was coming. He hated lying, but really, which was better for his children in this situation.

“Maybe. That depends. Okay, kids, you should have been in bed an hour ago.” His change of topics were usually a lot smoother, but under the situation, he couldn’t have been blamed. “Say…” he said, after tucking them both in. He hovered in the doorway. 

“Yes Papa?” Cosette asked, her voice small but inquisitive. 

“Do you guys like spending time with Javert? And Combeferre?”

“Uhuh!” Enjolras said, without hesitation. “Can they move in? Combeferre can have my bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“I wanna sleep on the floor too! We can have blanket forts every day, and then you and Uncle Javert can join in too. 

“No-one has to give up their beds…” Valjean attempted to hide the expression on his face, imagining Javert in their house, building blanket forts as the kids had pillow fights. 

“And then we all live happily ever after!” Enjolras exclaimed. “And we’ll be Princes and Princesses and fight dragons and-” Enjolras’ words were swallowed by a huge yawn, and Valjean’s fondness for the two kids practically exuded from him.

“You really wouldn’t mind if your Papa and your Uncle Javert er…” Valjean didn’t want to throw big concepts around too quickly, but he felt embarrassed even asking. “Fell in love?”

“And lived happily ever after!” Valjean could hear Cosette was grinning into the darkness.

-

Javert was glad he didn’t have to give Combeferre up for adoption. Now he and Valjean could schedule their lives easier, he could allow himself to take days off as breaks, if only so Valjean did not have to raise the three children by himself. 

Javert took care of himself more, now, and was eating better, having full, homemade meals when he got home, spending weekends baking with the three… he was surprised the first time Cosette had called him Uncle, thought he misheard when Enjolras said he loved him, and could barely breathe when Combeferre called him dad.

Though his family was now four persons bigger than it had been for forty-odd years of his life, Javert found the pressure comforting. He found being called dad, and dear, and being loved comforting, and, strangest of all, he found he didn’t mind at all when his children acted out plays with their dolls about him and Valjean falling madly in love.

“It’s your turn to tell us a story, Daddy!” Cosette fell into her bed, the two boys falling into theirs just as eagerly.

“I’m no good with stories,” Javert objected. “The only stories I know aren’t stories for little kids.”

“We’re not little!” Enjolras shouted, raising his fist in the air. 

“You’re littler than I am which means you’re little kids in the eys of the law!” Javert claimed, adopting his police voice, which always made the kids giggle.

“Then tell us a story about something nice! Something not about work.”

That severely limited Javert’s repertoire, doing very little outside of work but er, Valjean. Valjean… Javert smiled to himself. The kids were always telling him their story, so for once, he would embarrass them by giving them a lovey-dovey story that couldn’t fail to make any child of his shiver.

“Once upon a time,” he started, watching as all three kids made themselves comfortable under their covers, attention solely on him. “There was a beautiful Prince, the most beautiful in all the lands, and his name was Jean Valjean.”

It was the perfect story, with a good start, a full body and the best kind of ending; a happily ever after. 


End file.
